Farewells
by Casey Toh
Summary: Read on and find out...A prequel to The Days After


This fan fiction possesses the usual disclaimers. Comments are most welcome!!

Farewells by Casey Toh

The phone to the McGinnis apartment rang. After a few seconds, Mary McGinnis picked it up. "Hello?"

"Is Terry McGinnis there?" It was a man's voice, laced with urgency.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"I'm Alexander Collins," the man answered, "Mr. Wayne's lawyer. Please inform Terry something has happened. Tell him it's Priority Omega."

"But it's eleven p.m., Mr. Collins," Mary protested. "Can't this wait till tomorrow?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. McGinnis. But it's really urgent. Please inform him as soon as you hang up. Thank you."

"All right." 

The phone went click at the other end. Mary knocked on her son's door and entered. He was asleep. With reluctance, she shook him awake. "Terry, wake up."

Terry sat up and stared at his mother with unfocused eyes. "Mom, what's up?" His words were slurred. He yawned, ready to head back to dreamland.

"Mr. Wayne's lawyer just called," she said. "He wants me to tell you it's Priority Omega."

At that, Terry jerked upright, his gaze sharpened and became very alert. "Priority Omega?" He repeated. Mary nodded. He jumped out off bed and pulled on a t-shirt. "Mom, I need to go to Mr. Wayne's immediately."

"Terry, it's almost 11:15 p.m. You're not going to Wayne Manor at this ungodly hour," Mary ordered. "Besides, you have school tomorrow."

Terry grabbed his bag and went to the door, then stopped, turning back to his mother. "Mom, I really need to go to him. You can ground me for ten years when I get back, but if I don't see Mr. Wayne now, I'm going to regret it deeply for the rest of my life." 

He went out and let the door slowly swing shut, leaving Mary with the last image of his son's back.

_______________________________________________________________________________

11:45 pm

Wayne Manor

Terry practically flew up the stairs. _Priority Omega. Priority Omega. _Those words kept repeating themselves in his head. "Hang on Wayne, I'm coming."

Another few seconds of running brought him to Bruce Wayne's bedroom. Terry barged in, and stopped in shock and fear at the scene in front of him. Bruce laid in bed with a quilt pulled up to beneath his chin. His face was ashen and his breathing labored. 

He crossed the room to stand beside Bruce's bed. His mind traveled back to the first time he met the old man, who was still relatively healthy and strong at that time, and who had even fought off the Jokerz with just his cane. Looking at him now, he saw none of the strength the old man used to possess.

Terry took Bruce's hand. "Wayne." No response. "Please answer me." Still no response. "When mom told me it was Priority Omega, I freaked out. I didn't dare believe you are going. Tell me you are not."

He looked down at the still face, then decided to say what had been on his mind for very long. "I need to tell you something, Wayne. I know I have done nothing but defy all your instructions all this while, whether in suit or not. We may argue and disagree all the time, but I have to tell you I love you.

Do you hear me, Wayne? I love you!" Terry broke down, tears meandering down his face, leaving bright trails of moonlight. "I love you, Dad."

Coughs wrecked through Bruce's body. His eyelids fluttered open. They were now gray and lifeless. He turned his gaze to the teenager who had been under his training. "McGinnis," he croaked, feeling his throat walls grating against one another. 

Terry tried hard to keep his emotions in check, but only partly succeeded. "Wayne. How are you feeling?"

There was no way to break the news gently. "I'm going to die." Seeing Terry about to interrupt, Bruce continued hurriedly. "Listen to me, everyone has to go sooner or later. My time on earth is up. Try to get over it. Promise me that."

Although Terry knew he could never get over Bruce's death, he promised, to set Bruce's mind at ease. "All right. But I'll honestly miss you, Wayne. You have been the greatest father anyone could have. I love you."

Bruce managed a feeble nod. "Do me a favor, Terry. Continue the legend I once was. Gotham City is now even more corrupted than ever. She needs a guardian. I don't want to force this unto you. If you want to take on the mantle, do it. If not, go on with living you life and be happy, okay?"

Terry gripped Bruce's hand. "I'll carry on with your work, Wayne, I promise you that. I won't let the hero you were, and still are, die. Never."

At that, Bruce seemed satisfied and smiled. "You've been a good kid, McGinnis. Worth for me to — call — my…son." His eyes closed and his chest stopped moving.

Terry became terrified. He shook Bruce's shoulders, but the old man remained still. "Wayne!!" He screamed with the pain of a dying man.

________________________________________________________

Everyone who could possibly be there was there. Dick Grayson, Timothy Drake, Barbara Gordon, Lucius Fox, and most of Bruce's associates, young or old.

Terry stood apart from his family, holding a single red rose. His head was bowed to the coffin already set in the ground. "You once honored and remembered your late parents by going to Crime Alley every year and placing two roses where they died. I'll do the same for you.

I'll visit their death site every year to let them see the son whom you created and acknowledged. But you'll be the one I honor till my death," he vowed. He dropped the rose into the pit, as others were doing, and turned to leave.

Dick and Tim caught up with him. "How are you taking it, kid?" Tim inquired sadly.

Terry turned on Bruce's surrogate sons with a vehemence that surprised even himself. "Why do you care how I'm taking it? You weren't even there when he died!"

Dick's face hardened. "McGinnis, you know we love him just as much as you do. He was our mentor, our father."

"Then why didn't you come back to tell him you love him?" Terry screamed. "After you left for so many years, he was still longing for you to reconcile with him. You should have told him."

"Terry—Tim began, but was cut off by the younger man.

"Don't come near me. I'll never forgive you for not even coming back to see him."

Terry McGinnis stormed off in the direction of Wayne Manor, to the place he now called home…to his future.

# The Legacy Continues…

It was two weeks after the funeral. According to Collins, Bruce had willed everything he had to Terry and left a letter. He had been reluctant to read it, for if he did, it would strengthen what he already knew: that Bruce was dead.

Holding the envelope in his hand, Terry settled in the couch in the Batcave. He had finally decided to open the letter. 

_Dear Terry,_

_If you are reading this letter, it would mean I have died._

_As you already would have known, I willed everything to you._

_You might be wondering why is my fortune not willed to Dick _

_or Tim. For one, they'll already rich men who have their own_

_fortune and company. Second, they'll already old and will be _

_gone soon, much earlier than you. Third, you are my son, the _

_person who will remember me and continue my work. Although _

_I've never showed it, I love you, Terry. I hope that I at least have_

_told you that before I died. I'm proud of you, son._

_ _

## Bruce Wayne

The letter fluttered to the floor as Terry buried his head in his hands and began to sob, which soon turned to full force crying. He moved to the sandbag and attacked it with everything he had, releasing his pain and anger. He soon exhausted himself and slumped down against the wall.

_You are my son, the person who will remember me and continue my work._ It was as if Bruce was in his head saying those words. They somehow energized Terry, made him feel strong. He stood in front of the glass case that held the original Batsuit Bruce wore.

"You were once Batman, and all feared you. You passed on your job to me, and I receive it. I shall be the Batman, and your soul lives within me, your soul of righteousness burns in me, and the people of Gotham will once more know the wrath of Batman!"

Overhead, the descendents of the bats that once occupied the cave in the original Batman's time flew in swarms around Terry as he donned the Batsuit. It was as if they were welcoming him as their new master.

_____________________________________________________________________

There was a full moon. Two bank robberies had been stopped, with no casualties. The crooks were all left with the minimum injuries.

If anyone had glanced up at the Clock Tower that night, they would have seen a lone figure silhouetted against the moon's bright glare.

The wind whipped around the figure, and clouds gathered overhead. The figure was swallowed by the darkness, but he was still there. Without any warning, a thunderstorm came. He stood tall and strong, powerful and intimidating, his cloak billowing around him.

Lightning flashed across the clouds, briefly illuminating the figure. In that brief instant, the shadow of the Bat fell on the wall of the tower.

A new Batman was born.

THE END

__


End file.
